Mistaken
by Stark1ssed
Summary: mis·tak·en [mi stáyken] adj. 1. Wrong or incorrect in opinion, understanding, or perception. In Progress
1. As Time Ticks On

Title: **Mistaken**  
Rating: T  
Summary: Cameron has made some mistakes in her life, but she is learning how to live again.  
Disclaimer: Unfourtunately, I own no part of House. If I did, do you really think I would be writing _stories_? 

Note: I'm planning on turning this into a House/Cameron story eventually. Proabaly some Cam & Foreman or Cam & Wilson friendship thrown in somewhere.

Checking the clock, Cameron saw that it was a bit past ten – almost everyone in the hospital, everybody on the 4th floor anyway, had left long ago to go home and relax. Yet Allison was still sitting in House's office, flipping through his mail and trying to get focused enough to actually answer one of the many letters. Thoughts flooded through her head, making it hard to concentrate. If Foreman had thought she was jumpy earlier, he should see how uptight she was now. Tapping a pencil lightly on the desk, she watched the clock tick.

Drawing in as much air as her lungs could hold, she closed her eyes and sighed.. If this was going to happen, now was as good a time as any. Slowly standing from the black chair, she let the wheels push it backwards. As Cameron stepped out into the hallway, her heels clicked against the ground. The minute sound of her shoes hitting the tile seemed to echo throughout the corridor. Quickening her pace, Cameron felt sweat beads beginning to form at the top of her forehead, making her fear even more evident. Stopping suddenly, she turned and entered the lab on her left. Fear overwhelmed her, and she shook as if the temperature was below zero.

_Maybe I should just go back _she thought to herself. Closing her eyes again, she clenched her jaw. _No, I need to do this. Let's just get it over quickly._ Searching around, she quickly found the antiseptic and tourniquet in a drawer. She picked up one of the cotton balls and soaked it in the alcohol, using it to clean a spot on her forearm. Tying the latex band around her left arm, she shuddered. Finding the target vein, she gently inserted the fine needle with a shaking hand. Crimson blood collected in the syringe. Doing the procedure alone wasn't protocol, but well worth the privacy it provided.

She slowly untied the tourniquet, trying to eat up as much time as possible to avoid doing the test she had come for. As the band snapped off, Cameron picked up the vial of fresh blood. After prepping it for the test, she put the tube in its slot and sat back, preparing for the longest wait of her life. She watched the electronic clock countdown from 3 minutes. 2:37, 2:16, 1:28. The timers' soft chime made her jump as if someone had grabbed her from behind.

As the bright white sheet of paper printed out, she felt faint. She had made such huge mistakes in the past week. Even though it all started as an accident, so much of it had been her fault. If she could travel back in time, so many things could've been done differently, better choices made. But the printers' hum suddenly stopped, jerking her back to the present. This would be the document that could change everything.

Scanning the paper for what she wanted, her eyes captured the result. As she read it, tears began flowing down her face. The sheet read, in black sentencing letters, POSITIVE.

Please review! I appreciate compliments and criticism; feedback is what writers live on!


	2. Wish I Was Dreaming

**J. Daisy** & **Arien Star** - Thanks for the reviews! It means a lot that someone likes it :-) Now onto the story! Sorry the chapters are so short, but I prefer to proofread smaller areas!

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How had this happened? She had used protection, though it was more for protecting him than her. The idea of this situation had never even come to mind then – but now reality was crashing down. The paper was clear; underneath the positive was a full 25 mlU. She was definitely pregnant.

Suddenly Cameron leaned over the trash and emptied her stomach of what little food she had eaten earlier. Exhaustion overtook her, and she had to sit down. After resting for a minute, new fears arose, almost sending her back to her nauseous state.

_What if I have HIV; the baby could contract it!_

But that was one of her less-urgent worries. More concerning was _What the hell am I going to tell Chase?_ They had never really intended for anything to become permanent – they both knew she had been on meth and very stressed. She still _was _stressed, but she had gotten herself together. Now everything was falling apart again.

She had so many things that needed to be done; the normal baby stuff like shopping for clothes and pre-natal care. Then there were the things like explaining to her family and friends what had happened. They didn't even know she might have HIV, much less that she was likely pregnant.

Glancing at the paper again, Cameron confirmed something else she already knew; she was about two weeks along. That pretty much dashed any hope that maybe the baby wasn't Chase's. But there was no way it couldn't be; she hadn't even been _dating_ anyone for months. The last date she had been on with House; just the memory made her shudder. How could everything have gone so wrong?

Her gaze wandered to the clock, and she was shocked to find that it was a quarter to midnight. How long had she been here? Hastily she began putting the things that had been taken out away. Once everything was in its right place again, Cameron grabbed the sheet – the one indication that she had ever even been there. Fury overtook her and she scrunched up the paper, tossing it at the wastebasket. Missing the can completely, she bent down to grab it. Instead of discarding it though, she gradually smoothed it out and stared. Tears began dropping onto the sheet, blurring the text.

After folding it gently, she placed the sheet in her pocket and headed towards the elevator. Maybe soon she would wake up and it would all be a terrible dream.

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And now you will review! Thanks for reading, Kaecla.


	3. Breaking Day

At precisely 6:15, Cameron's alarm clock began blaring in her ear, jolting her awake. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, the glare blinding her. She was exhausted and felt like crap. _What the hell happened last night?_ She wondered, having no recollection of the night before. She felt almost as bad as she had the morning after taking meth. Dragging herself out of bed, Cameron moved to the cushioned chair placed in the corner. Picking up her jeans, a crumpled paper fell to the ground. But it went unnoticed, and she continued to throw the mislaid clothes in her hamper.

Heading towards the bathroom door, she felt her eyes droop. God she was lethargic. So much so that she was tempted to call in sick to work. _As if House would believe me._ She thought to herself. And it was true; Cameron had been known to come in for work no matter how she was feeling.

Stepping through the shower's door, she turned the clear knob placed on the tiled wall. Torrid water ran through the pipes, the heat turning her skin a pink color. The steam was refreshing in a way – it made her feel alive. Knowing the water would soon turn chilly she cut her shower short and grabbed the pale yellow towel hanging on the rack. After wrapping it around her waist, she grabbed a smaller white towel and wrapped it around her head, keeping her dripping auburn curls from tickling her back.

Making her way towards the closet, she stepped on something that felt exceedingly creased. Lifting her right foot she discovered the now damp paper. Slowly unfolding it, events of the evening before slowly arose, as did the anxiety. Reminiscences of the blood test and its results resurfaced. Soon after Cameron found herself bending over the toilet bowl. Her delicate body trembled with every heave.

Finally regaining her strength Cameron stood, letting the sink support her weight. Wiping off her mouth she began searching for mouthwash to take the revolting flavor off her lips. Simply searching for something kept her mind off of reality, which was fine with her. After quickly rinsing her mouth she recapped the squat bottle.

Looking up, she saw her reflection in the mirror; her fair skin was much pastier than usual, and her eyes were sunken and flecked with grief. She couldn't go to work like this. And yet she still did. After staring at her mirror image, Cameron splashed her face with cool water. She precariously grabbed fresh clothes from her dresser and walked into the kitchen. When she opened the fridge, the nausea from before started to return. Slamming the door shut, she ran outside to get some fresh air. Inside was a living hell. She took a deep breath before throwing up over the railing.


	4. Painful Arrival

**Mystic Elf** – Thanks for your thoughts! I'm actually planning on going a different way with this story than you might think – I hope you continue to enjoy my writing. If not, well thanks for reviewing anyways!

**SilverMoonShining** – Glad you like it. Again, I apologize for the small chapters – I tried my best to make this one longer, but it didn't turn out as long as I'd thought.

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As Cameron's car pulled into PPTH's staff parking lot, her eyes glanced at the gray dashboard of her Honda. Neon green lights shone 7:52 back at her, and she winced. Technically she was a bit less than an hour late, but House knew her standard routine of coming in early and answering his mail. There was no way he'd just let this fly past him. Grabbing her things, Cameron rushed to get to the stairs. It was freezing outside and snow was rapidly falling to the ground, coating everything in sight with a slippery ice blanket. It would've been pleasant – she loved the snow. Not watching her step, Cameron stepped on a chunk of ice and went falling to the pavement, landing in a murky puddle.

"Damnit" Cameron muttered under her breath. Pain seared through her ankle as she picked up her scattered papers which were now soaked. Her work attire was drenched as well. She had an extra set of clothes, but they were inside the locker rooms which were en route to House's office. But if she took a more secretive route, chances were that she'd never meet up with House. Slowly pushing herself up, Cameron inspected her leg. Nothing felt broken, but her ankle was probably be sprained. Gradually she began limping towards the clinic doors, trying to keep pressure off her swollen ankle.

After squeezing out her dripping hair, Cameron stepped into the clinic, savoring the rush of heat that flooded around her. A small sigh escaped her lips as she walked towards the receptionists' desk.

"Cameron!" a voice called out, causing her to whip around. Surprise showed clearly on her features. As her heart rate slowed back to normal, she noticed Wilson striding towards her. "What happened to you?" he questioned, taking in her drenched apparel.

"Oh, nothing," she answered, hoping he would just leave it at that. At the moment she only wanted to go and change into something dry. But of course he wouldn't – he actually _cared_ about why she was wet. A shame he hacn't been House. For a moment Cameron forgot about her injured ankle, but it quickly got her attention when she tried to walk to the elevator. She grimaced as the pain hit her.

"That doesn't look like nothing" Wilson smiled, helping her limp towards an exam room. Sitting her down on a cot, he started taking off her shoe and slightly soggy sock, examining her foot. "So what did you _really_ do?"

"I slipped." Cameron winced as Wilson palpated her ankle.

"I don't think it's broken, probably just sprained at the most." Grabbing an elastic bandage, he wrapped her ankle tightly. "Just to make sure you don't put too much pressure on it."

"Thanks. I should get going." After slipping on her shoe, she started towards the lockers once again. Wilson watched her hurriedly limp towards the elevator's silver doors.

Once she was safely enclosed by the wooden walls Cameron felt the chill of ice water set in. By the time she reached the fourth floor she was shivering lightly. A chime sounded and the elevator doors opened, revealing House, Chase and Foreman.

"So, our barista has finally arrived," he said with a smirk. Chase looked utterly confused, and Foreman gave her yet another concerned look to add to her collection. God, did she look _that _bad?

"I'm just going...", Cameron tried to explain, but quickly got cut off.

"You know, you should get changed into dry clothes. Patients normally like not having muddy water dripped on them." House cynically commented.

As exasperated as he was making her, Cameron left without infuriating herself. She had been trying so hard to not let him get to her, but it was difficult when the day had started out so badly.


End file.
